


The Dishonorable Pursuit of Bargains

by Wobblegong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Absolutely buckwild amounts of headcanon underpinning everything, Gen, Sass, The power of paperwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wobblegong/pseuds/Wobblegong
Summary: Stop me if you've heard this one before: a Summoner walks into a bookshop looking to get paid.... (Originally posted on tumblr.)





	The Dishonorable Pursuit of Bargains

**Author's Note:**

> Once again: Keimahl Sterrgeimwyn is my character, I RP, and this was written specifically to cover some timeskip/events happening outside the scope of active RP but definitely impacting it.
> 
> Kudos to my friend whose character is mentioned but never named– thanks for letting me RP a nerd and use it as a springboard into this. You're great.

It was later than lunch but earlier than tea time when Keim darkened the doorway of Five Books & More. She recognized, or rather _failed_ to recognize the layabout at the desk, so she only smiled her nicest smile and said, “I’m here to see Tatama about a job.” The youngster hardly even responded beyond a squint (at her nose, but _oops!_ it was a bit too dark in here for anyone to get a good look) and a surly grunt. They called back a “lady’s here!” and Keim ducked down the cramped hallway.

Tatama Tama herself was wrist-deep in her latest exotic acquisition when she came in. The lalafell’s tone was jovial, barely distracted by the gluey mess. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing ya til dinner, dear! Changed your mind ‘bout havin’ the afternoon free?”

Keimahl’s smile was decidedly less nice now. “For your sake I hope not, though I’m sure the two of us can resolve matters long before your appointment tonight.”

Tatama squawked like a chocobo that’d put its foot down wrong. Her hands were too busy (and gooey) for her to whip around; instead she had to glare over her shoulder, cheeks blazing red. “Nophica’s crotch! Don’t sneak up on a woman, least of all when she’s busy! How’d you get back here anyroad, shoo, I got people to see.”

An invitation did not look like it would be forthcoming, so Keim claimed the nearest seat– lounging with a calculated disregard most commonly seen among thugs aware they have their prey by the short hairs. “Tis scarcely past noon, you never see clients the same afternoon that you have a dinner appointment, and you shorted me four-fifths of a job.” Keim paused, contemplative, before conversationally adding, “The whelp at the desk wouldn’t recognize a Hellsguard without licking the underside of their nose.” She brushed the pleats of her skirt into order while Tatama turned steadily more red.

“I TOLD that girl that ye check if they’re brown or green–”

“I’m grey, most people around here aren’t used to that.”

“Hellsguard aint bloody GREY!” Tatama yanked her hands free with _schlorp_ and spun around, dunking her slime-covered digits in an untidy basin of solvent. “What, did you lie ‘bout your name? For shame, Sterrgeimwyn–”

“ _‘That girl’_ never asked for it,” Keim calmly countered, “and now I must insist that you indulge my curiosity: how did you plan to cover the cost of a full decontamination and disarming? Particularly given the instructions to leave the tome intact.”

Tatama glowered with a force that had once impressed the roegadyn. “You mean to tell me the soddin’ merc didn’t pay you? What, did she flex so hard ya forgot to ask for payment?”

“ _You_ wanted the tome. Per every last contract you’ve been party to that means tis _you_ who pays the fee, not whomever you wheedle into fetching it back and forth.” Keimahl leaned her cheek on her gloved fist, expression flatly unamused. “If you’d prefer I could spend the next two days digging up said contracts, or perhaps you’d like to take it to an adjucato–”

“The hells I done to wrong you, woman?! I got enough on my plate and worse than this! Come back some time I aint got a pack of peistes breathin’ down my neck.” Hands now clean, the lalafell stomped her foot and looked halfway ready to cry. “Twice-damned merc shoulda gone to the Tia, _he_ wouldn’t be ruinin’ my day like this!”

“The fact that C’shtah would leave the moment you promised him a broom closet full of adoring, nubile men is not my problem.” She brushed her bangs out of the way and fixed Tatama with a grim stare. “I’m not here to take a pound of flesh, merely fair payment. I _would_ prefer to avoid taking you to the court over a breach of contract.”

Tatama laughed. “You don’t scare me, fishie! This aint in anything I’ve signed!”

Keim let the silence thicken. The lalafell’s confidence drained, transmuting into nervous wiggling and looking about, before the reogadyn very softly asked, “You didn’t read it…?”

“Of course I r-read it! J-just– fine! Decontam, disarm, and ye sent it back clean enough to read, that can’t be more than–”

“Raptorhide vellum and some of my rarest ink. The Dravanian sort with coeurlseye dust, triple-refined,” she clarified, and despite herself Tatama made a little coo of appreciation. Keim continued counting off on her fingers: “I did not have time to use prepared settings, which meant both more work for me and increased danger for everyone. And while I am glad you sent a courier incurious about the contents, she could hardly tell me anything useful about the tome.” Keim pulled a coinpouch off her bandolier and held it up, eyebrows raised. “I’m willing to accept this as the first _fifth._ ”

Despite looking like she was chewing a lemon, Tatama begrudgingly assented. “Fine. But I wasn’t kiddin’ about the peiste-pack. I aint flush with coin for lining your pockets.” Her nose wriggled while she thought. Abruptly she perked up. (Keim braced herself.) “Actually! I’m rememberin’ right that you were thinking about rentin’ yourself a nice little space for your work, yeah?” At the roegadyn’s wary nod, she clapped. “Then I got JUST the thing for ya!” Quick as could be the lalafell sprang across the room, clambering up a perilously-full bookshelf to yank some papers off the top. She ignored the knick-knack avalanche that spilled through the space she’d just occupied as she landed on the desk, eyes flitting across the pages as she flipped through them. “Should be zoned right– you’ve still got that adventurin’ license, aint even _necessary_ but anything ta sweeten the Brass….”

The grin she aimed at Keim was utterly self-satisfied, presenting the papers with a flourish. The roegadyn was a tad more restrained, accepting the papers and giving them a thorough review. Tatama continued anyways. “I came into somebody’s old bolthole awhile back. Couple owners back whoever had the deed, ah… didn’t keep a firm hold, I guess.” She saw the moment Keim got to the facts and numbers portion of the page, already grinning like a shark as the roegadyn sharply looked up. “Yeah, it’s _that_ big. Everything ya could want and more, aint I right?” She took a seat on a handy grimoire. “Problem is nobody’s cleaned the place out since that slippery lil peiste of paper wiggled free. Just ‘cause you got the deed in your hands don’t mean the Brass won’t come asking when they find ya turning a smuggler den’s contents out into the trash. And there’s so bloody _much_ of it in there, you’ll want more hands but good luck findin’ someone zip-lipped enough to help without selling your name.”

“So you’re offering me the property to rid yourself of this curse?”

Tatama raised her eyebrows. “ _You_ know the tight-lipped types. Labor’s a bit harder to estimate than goods, but the net property value less expenses to clean it out….”

“…is about what you owe me,” Keim concluded. She tapped the sheaf against her lips for a moment before nodding. “I’m willing to call this a fair price.”

“Ah! I aint _givin’_ it, I’m selling it ta you. For that much.” She gestured towards the moneypouch. At Keim’s cross look she only cackled. “C’mon, I’m near as doing ya a favor! You’d know better than me how awful the taxes get if you start trying ta make a _gift_ of a house.”

“True enough. Do you have paper?” Tatama summoned the necessary supplies out of the chaos; Keim bent her head over the scant writing surface and set about penning the contract. The lalafell had finished cleaning up her latest project long before the other woman was done jotting down all the ins and outs and details that would make it binding. She ended up leaning against a pile of strange fabric scraps, staring off into the distance, as the room was quiet save for the scratch of a pen (and the bustle of the street outside).

“So if the house is bigger than you were lookin’ for….”

Keim belatedly looked up, one brow raised.

“The hells you gonna do with all the extra space?”

The roegadyn stared at Tatama for a long moment before shrugging and resuming her work.

**Author's Note:**

> Tatama Tama is the best throw-away character I will ever write. Please feel free to use her if you need an Ul'dahn bookstore owner who spends half her time working practical alchemy, has contacts/associations ranging from perfectly prim to deeply disreputable, and is infamously bad with her debts until you apply some pressure.
> 
> High-five me in the comments if you're glad that everyone (*everyone*) was gay.


End file.
